


The Conquerors

by admiralandrea



Series: The Conquerors [1]
Category: NCIS: Los Angeles
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Slavery, Community: trope_bingo, M/M, Original Character(s), Sexual Slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-04
Updated: 2018-06-04
Packaged: 2019-05-18 06:12:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14847290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/admiralandrea/pseuds/admiralandrea
Summary: A very different Sam and Michelle Hanna meet a very different G Callen and take ownership of him.





	The Conquerors

**Author's Note:**

> This contains only explicit Callen/Sam, everything else is implied. The names of Sam and Michelle are made up from googling African names, the places names are all fictional. Callen's name and home are variations on reality. This is more dubcon because Callen is a slave, so can't really consent.
> 
> Also contains various kinks such as whipping, truth drugs and Callen being prepared for sex by OC's.
> 
> Thanks to Spikedluv for the alpha read!
> 
> Written for the feudal/historical AU square on my Trope Bingo card.

Lord Sefu Hasani and his wife Lady Mudiwa were eating dinner with their council when a commotion at the door drew their attention.

Lord Sefu rose from his seat. “What is this?” he demanded, as several of his household guards dragged a man into the room.

The men all bowed deeply and crossed their arms over their chests, allowing the prisoner to drop on the floor.

“My Lord!” they exclaimed as one. 

Then the leader of the group stepped forward to speak. “He was found on the south border, My Lord Hasani,” the guard said. “He is one of the pale devils.” 

As he said this, the guard nudged the man on the floor with one foot, making him moan and curl up. Lord Sefu could just see that the man did indeed have pale skin.

“Take him to the dungeon,” Lord Sefu commanded. “I will deal with him tomorrow.”

The guard leader bowed deeply once more. “Yes My Lord,” he replied, gesturing to the other guards, who grabbed the man and started to drag him back out of the room.

Once they were gone, Lord Sefu turned to his wife and bowed deeply, taking her hand and kissing it. “I apologize for the disturbance, my wife,” he told her. “Let us resume eating.”

Lady Mudiwa smiled at her husband as he retook his seat. “Do not let it concern you, my husband,” she said. “The meal is not spoiled and nor is my appetite.”

*

The next morning, Lady Mudiwa accompanied her husband to the dungeons, to examine the infidel that had been brought in the night before. She had been intrigued by his pale skin and wondered why he was so far from wherever he called home.

“You fear he is a spy?” she asked her husband, as he stalked beside her through the corridors of their palace.

He had been on edge last night, taking all of her considerable powers to soothe and relax. 

“I do not see what else he might be, so far from the pale lands,” Lord Sefu told her. 

She considered it thoughtfully. “Perhaps he was captured by others and escaped, making his presence here a mere coincidence.”

Beside her, Lord Sefu made a rude noise. “You know I do not believe such nonsense,” he said. “There is no reason for anyone to be at our south border, there is nothing there but hostile land. It is impossible to survive for any period of time.”

They reached the entrance to the dungeons at that moment, where the head of the guard awaited them.

“What is the condition of the prisoner?” Lord Sefu asked, as he followed the head guard down the steps and into the corridors of the dungeons.

“He had some injuries when he was captured my Lord Hasani,” the guard replied. “He also fought when he was discovered. But he was already weakened, I believe due to lack of food or water for several days, so he was easy to overpower. He was attended to last night, his wounds treated and he was given broth and water.”

“And this morning?” Lady Mudiwa asked.

The guard stopped outside a door and turned to face them. “He has not spoken to anyone, even the healer. He consumed the broth and water, though, so I believe he does wish to survive. His injuries are not severe. The healer believed he must have been beaten several days ago, from his condition.”

Lady Mudiwa raised an eyebrow to her husband at that remark. He scowled back.

“Can he be interrogated?” Lord Sefu asked.

The guard bowed her head. “The healer indicated that he believes a further beating would be ill-advised just now, but he agreed that the serums would not pose a problem, if you chose to use them.”

The guard opened the door and stood aside, to allow them entry to the room beyond. The room was large and well-lit, with white painted walls. Lord Sefu saw no point in using darkness as a tool to try and intimidate those being dealt with in his dungeons and he liked to be able to see clearly when he interrogated someone.

“You may leave us,” he told the guard and she gave a bow, arms clasped across her chest, before backing out of the room and closing the door.

The prisoner was secured in the middle of the room, arms stretched and bound above his head, while his ankles were tied to a bar and attached to the floor. He had been cleaned up, but that made his bruises all the more visible on his pale skin.

Lord Sefu prowled around the room, studying his prisoner from every angle. The man didn’t try to follow him with his eyes, instead, he stared ahead with a somewhat vacant expression on his face. Lady Mudiwa settled in a chair in the corner of the room, content to watch for now.

Once he had inspected the man thoroughly, gauging where all the bruises and injuries appeared to be, Lord Sefu headed to the cupboard in another corner of the room, where various implements were stored. He had decided that careful use of the whip would not aggravate any existing injuries, while serving as a way for him to establish dominance over the prisoner while he was being questioned.

Withdrawing the whip, Lord Sefu carried over to the table next to Lady Mudiwa’s chair. He unfurled it and checked the length carefully, even though he was the only one to use these items and he always checked and cleaned them after each use.

Satisfied, he looked to his wife. “Will you watch?” he asked.

“Of course, my husband,” she agreed with a sharp nod. 

He would use the whip and ask questions, while Lady Mudiwa watched for reactions. They would compare observations at the end of each session and discuss how to proceed, assuming they didn’t get the answers required. Lord Sefu was fairly sure this pale man would not break easily, but he was confident in time, he would know everything he wanted to about the stranger found on his border.

Lord Sefu picked up the whip and cracked it a couple of times, partly to ease himself into the upcoming session, but also to see how his prisoner reacted to the sound and anticipation of what was going to happen next. He was pleased to see that even if the prisoner didn’t look at him, he did clearly flinch at the sound of the whip cracking through the air near his body.

As he circled to stand behind the prisoner, Lord Sefu considered what language to use. It was possible that the pale man knew some of their language, having been found on the border. But if he had escaped from elsewhere, as his wife believed, then he may only know the language of the land he had been held before, as well as his own language. There was no real way to know.

Fortunately, the Hasani lands had received many visitors while Lord Sefu’s family ruled and he had learned a selection of their languages as a child, including those used in several pale lands. He decided to start with his own language and proceed from there.

“What is your name?” Lord Sefu asked. 

There was no response, so he looked to his wife and she shook her head. No sign of recognition from the prisoner, then. 

Still standing behind the prisoner, and occasionally cracking the whip, but not using it on the pale man yet, Lord Sefu repeated his question in several more languages. Each time, he got the same head shake from his wife.

Until, eventually, she nodded instead. She had seen recognition in the eyes of their captive this time. But still he didn’t reply. Lord Sefu nodded back at her and shifted position. He asked the question again, but again got only silence.

So he cracked the whip again, this time landing the blow across his prisoner’s back. That earned him a flinch, but still silence.

Lord Sefu looked to Lady Mudiwa, who raised her eyebrows and pursed her lips. She still believed the prisoner had understood this particular language, but was choosing not to respond, even with the whip being used. Lord Sefu didn’t mind. He was a strong, patient, man and could do this for hours on end if necessary. His father had trained him in the use of the whip and he knew how to wield it to cause pain, but no permanent injury.  
Stepping back once more, Lord Sefu asked the question a third time in the pale man’s language, accompanying it with another strike of the whip to the prisoner’s back, just below the previous stroke.

The prisoner tried to shift, but the way he was secured meant he had nowhere to go to escape the whip.

Lord Sefu proceeded to ask more questions, each time striking the whip over the prisoner’s back, laying down a series of red stripes which stood out against the pale skin. Although the prisoner whimpered and flinched, he never spoke.

Lord Sefu looked to Lady Mudiwa as he paused. She was frowning and he knew that she was as displeased as him by the lack of progress. He had one more idea to try and then it would be best to leave off the whipping and try the drugs instead. They were not something one could be trained to resist.

Shaking out the whip and rotating his shoulder, Lord Sefu repositioned himself behind the prisoner once more. He was going to try the basic name question again.

“What. Is. Your. Name?” Lord Sefu demanded, laying a whip strike in the same spot across the prisoner’s backside after each word.

The pale man yelled and writhed as much as his bonds allowed, but didn’t say anything when Lord Sefu was done, just hung there breathing heavily. The repeated strikes had left a vivid red welt, but only a few spots of blood. Lord Sefu’s expertise had ensured that he had barely broken the skin, even with the multiple strokes of the whip.

Lord Sefu walked back around to face the prisoner and gripped his chin, tilting the man’s face towards him. His eyes were glazed by pain, but other than that seemed emotionless. He didn’t seem to see Lord Sefu, even though his eyes were on his captor’s face.

Releasing him, Lord Sefu stepped back and turned to his wife. “I believe a break is in order,” he said.

“I agree husband,” Lady Mudiwa told him, rising gracefully from the chair. “I will tell the guards to bring the healer and arrange refreshments while you tend to your equipment.”

Lord Sefu nodded curt agreement, as he laid the whip out on the table and reached for the cleaning equipment. He ignored the prisoner behind him completely, as he began to wipe down the length of the whip, as well as the sounds of the guards coming and removing the prisoner, to be taken back to a cell and looked over by the healer. 

The ritual of cleaning and oiling the leather helped to calm the frustration that Lord Sefu was feeling from the uncooperative prisoner and his ability to resist the pain of his interrogation.

Once he was done with the whip and had returned it and his supplies to the cupboard, Lord Sefu headed for the room set aside for the senior guards to eat their meals and relax during breaks in their shifts.

Inside, he found his wife sitting at the table, tea laid out and a plate of cakes beside it. “This looks delicious, my wife,” Lord Sefu told her, as he took the seat across from her.

“I will inform the kitchen staff,” Lady Mudiwa said with a smile. “Provided, of course, that the taste lives up to the appearance.”

Lord Sefu smiled back, as he took one of the cakes and watched his wife pour him a cup of tea, which she placed in front of him. She then refilled her own cup and added a cake to her plate as well.

The room was mostly silent as they enjoyed the refreshments, until the door banged open and the chief healer rushed into the room.

“My Lord!” the healer exclaimed, as he came to a stop by the table. He barely managed a bow of the head to Lord Sefu and appeared not to notice the presence of Lady Mudiwa at all.

Lord Sefu replaced his cup on the table and gave a displeased frown to the man. “What is the meaning of this intrusion?” he asked coldly.

“I must protest your ill-use of the prisoner,” the healer proclaimed hotly, apparently not realizing how angry His Lordship was at his behavior.

“Is that so?” Lord Sefu’s tone was even chillier this time.

“I advised that he was not fit for physical interrogation due to his prior beating,” the healer said. “Guard Ramila assured me that she had informed you of this fact, yet I am summoned to his cell, to find that you have abused him with the whip, to the point he will not be able to sit for several days at least.”

Lord Sefu gazed at the healer once his tirade wound down, until the man eventually seemed to realize he was in trouble and he looked down at the floor.

“For that, you will spend the next week in the cells,” Lord Sefu informed him. “However, you may consider yourself fortunate that I will not be giving you the benefit of my attention with the whip. Instead, you will remain in isolation and all the guards advised not to converse with you. You will receive prisoner rations as well for the duration of your punishment. I suggest you spend your time considering what you have done and the lines you have crossed today.”

The healer was flushed now and he bowed deeply, arms crossed over his chest and remaining silent. Lord Sefu gestured to the guards at the door and they moved forward to lead the healer away.

When he turned back to the table, Lord Sefu found his wife gazing at him with a pleased smile. “That was well handled, my husband,” she acknowledged with a tip of the head.

“I am glad you approve, my wife,” Lord Sefu told her, smiling back. “Now, I believe we must return upstairs and deal with other matters of state than the occupants of our prison cells.”

Lady Mudiwa nodded agreement, rising from the table as her husband did and they headed back to the council chambers, where business would be conducted for the rest of the day.

*

The next morning, Lady Mudiwa returned to the cells alone, as Lord Sefu had to attend to a diplomatic matter first. He was unhappy, because he preferred his wife deal with these matters, as she had a greater understanding. But this particular guest had made an unwelcome advance to one of their advisers the previous evening and he took such matters very seriously. 

“I promise not to go too far without you, my husband,” Lady Mudiwa purred, as she ran a hand down his face. “And remember to leave that odious turnip alive. He must be a lesson to anyone that would threaten our people, but for that he is better alive than dead.”

Lord Sefu glowered at that, but understood the wisdom of his wife’s words. “Very well my wife,” he said. “But I make no promises as to his condition when I am done with reminding him of his place in the world.”

“Of course,” Lady Mudiwa agreed. “Have fun but do hurry and join me.” With that, she was gone with a swish of skirts.

Once in the dungeons, Lady Mudiwa found their prisoner hanging suspended as he had been the previous day. She took a few moments to walk around him to check on the marks her husband had left on him yesterday. His back had a variety of red marks still visible, but his backside had one raised red welt, from the final part of the whipping. She knew it must be very painful, but ran one fingernail along the mark anyway.

The prisoner shivered at the touch, but seemed to move back into it, rather than away, making Lady Mudiwa smile to herself. Perhaps a woman’s touch would elicit a response where her husband had not. Or maybe it was something else that caused the reaction. She walked back around in front of him again, noting that the bruises had changed colors again on his torso.

She looked at the prisoner’s face, but his eyes were closed and he appeared to be asleep. That wouldn’t do at all. She slapped him once, hard, across the face and his eyes flew open.

“What is your name?” she asked casually, using the same language she had noted him recognizing yesterday.

His face was blank and he didn’t respond, but his body definitely reacted again. Interesting. She turned to the table and looked at the various bottles laid out ready for her. Lady Mudiwa selected two and picked them up. 

There was a glass on the table as well and a jug of iced water, so she poured some of the water, filling the glass halfway, then measured out a basic dose of each serum. The prisoner was from another land and was therefore different to any of their own people. She would start cautiously, as she couldn’t predict how he would react to the drugs.

Once she had mixed everything together, she walked back over to the prisoner. His eyes followed her carefully, then flicked to the glass she held. She was sure he had guessed something of what she intended and the drugs had tinted the clear liquid, so it was apparent that he was being given something other than plain water to drink.

“If you refuse to drink, I will see that you are forced to do so and it will be much more painful than anything you endured yesterday,” she told him in the foreign tongue.

His eyes widened and his nostrils flared, indicating he understood what she was saying. To reinforce matters, she flicked a hand at the guard who stood out of the way in a corner of the room and he moved to stand next to the prisoner, hand on the knife at his belt.

The prisoner gave a brief nod of either understanding or acquiescence, so Lady Mudiwa held the glass to his mouth and slowly tilted it so he could drink. She watched carefully as he swallowed, as she had no desire to see him choke. She didn’t stop until he had finished the whole glass, then she stepped back to return the empty glass to the table and sat down to wait for the drugs to take effect.

*

As Lady Mudiwa continued to wait, the door to the cell burst open and Lord Sefu rushed in. He went straight to his wife and lifted her from her chair, moving her back against the wall and pressing their mouths together in a rough kiss.

Lady Mudiwa didn’t have a chance to protest or react, but she relaxed into the hold on her, knowing her husband was probably fired up from dealing with their foreign guest. The door closed as the guard exited the room, just as Lord Sefu lowered his wife to the ground once more.

“My apologies, Lady Mudiwa,” he said, bowing low before her, arms crossed over his chest, the same way their staff did.

She smiled at him and reached out to run a hand down the side of his face. “No harm done, my Lord,” she told him. “Although you did give the guard and our prisoner something of a show.”

Lord Sefu turned to look at the pale man who still hung suspended in the middle of the room. Although his eyes were glazed over from the drugs he’d been given earlier, they were also dilated and he was clearly aroused by what he had seen.

“An interesting reaction,” Lord Sefu mused, as he swept his gaze the length of the naked body of the prisoner. He stalked around the room, studying the man from every angle, pausing as his wife had before him, to admire the view of the man’s back and rear, and the marks still visible there.

“How long ago did you dose him?” Lord Sefu asked his wife, as he circled around to where she was once more seated at the table.

She checked the room’s sand timer. “Long enough that the maximum effect should have been reached,” Lady Mudiwa replied.

“Then it is time for you to question him,” Lord Sefu declared, taking a seat next to the table.

“Very well, husband,” Lady Mudiwa replied and rose to stand in front of the prisoner.

She started with the same question that her husband had. “What is your name?”

“Grigori Calinescu,” the prisoner responded in a low, hoarse voice.

Lady Mudiwa frowned at that and turned to the table. Lord Sefu was already pouring a glass of water, which he handed over and she stepped forward to carefully allow the prisoner to drink from the glass. 

After a few mouthfuls he pulled his head back and nodded. “Thank you,” he said and this time his voice sounded more normal.

“Let me know if you require more,” Lady Mudiwa told him. “It must be a side-effect of the drug. Unless the guards have not been giving you food and water?” She added in a stern voice.

The prisoner shook his head. “I have been well supplied thank you,” he told her. “I have never been so well treated while being held prisoner.”

“This is something you have experienced before?” Lord Sefu injected the question smoothly, coming to stand beside his wife.

Calinescu gave him a rueful look. “In my home lands, anyone not of royal blood is liable to be bought and sold on a whim. Very few of the nobles have any grace or dignity when it comes to the treatment of their slaves.”

“And where is it you call home?” Lady Mudiwa took up the questioning once more.

“Muscovia,” Calinescu said. “A vast land far to the north and west of here. And very cold,” he added.

“So why were you on our southern border?” Lady Mudiwa asked.

He frowned at that before replying. “I was with a group of merchants on a trading trip,” he explained. “We were attacked in Wasaria, after we had completed trading and were starting the journey home. They beat everyone to death and escaped with the gold and metals we had received in payment. I guess they thought I was dead too.”

“Then you were most lucky to survive,” Lady Mudiwa told him simply.

“I do not know,” Calinescu said, shaking his head. “It did not feel lucky, as I had only one canteen of water and did not know where I was. The beating left me confused, so I wandered for many days until I came upon your guard post. I am grateful to your soldiers for merely capturing me, rather than killing me or beating me some more.”

“That is not our way,” Lord Sefu interjected sharply. 

Calinescu bowed his head. “I understand that now, my Lord,” he said respectfully. “But I have had little experience of the kindness of men and I am a stranger, far from home.” 

He started to cough, so Lady Mudiwa stepped forward with the water and he sipped from the glass once more.

“I believe that is enough for today,” she said, when the glass was empty. “You are still recovering from that attack. I will have the guards return you to your cell and ensure that they bring you plenty of water and food.”

“Thank you, my Lady,” Calinescu said, bowing his head to her.

*

Once they were back in their personal quarters, Lord Sefu and Lady Mudiwa sat down to discuss what they had just learned from their prisoner. 

“We have agents who can verify his story,” Lord Sefu stated.

Lady Mudiwa nodded in agreement. “It will be no problem checking that there were traders in Wasaria,” she replied. “Our agents should also be able to find out about any attack. That is sure to be a source of gossip, no matter how much Governor Bomani wishes to keep it quiet. Especially pale skinned foreigners being attacked and killed.”

“What do you wish to do with this Calinescu?” Lord Sefu asked, knowing his wife would get the instructions sent out to their spies and sources around Wasaria.

She smiled at him. “Why keep him, of course,” Lady Mudiwa replied. “It is clear he has no family or ties in this Muscovia and they will think he is dead like the rest of his group.”

“You just want him in our bedchamber,” Lord Sefu teased.

“And you do not?” Lady Mudiwa challenged with a look.

He smiled in a way that made her blood pulse. “Of course I do, my Lady,” he agreed. “I wish to see him on his knees bringing you pleasure with his mouth.”

“Interesting,” Lady Mudiwa said, moving to slide astride her husband’s thighs. “Because I was thinking how good he would look bent over while you use this,” and she squeezed his hardening member firmly, “to pound that firm backside you marked so beautifully.”

“I’m sure both of those things could be arranged,” Lord Sefu said. “But first, my wife, let me show you what pleasure I can bring you.” And he stood effortlessly, holding on to his wife and carried her through to their bedchamber.

*

For the next several days, Grigori Calinescu was left alone by the noble couple. He was only visited by guards bringing food and water a couple of times a day and once by a different healer to the man he had seen before.

He gradually recovered from the beating he had received, as well as the whipping carried out by Lord Sefu. Grigori spent the time mostly lying on his stomach on the cot in his cell, thinking about everything that had happened since he left Muscovia several weeks previously. It had been a tumultuous time, but Grigori didn’t mind that. It was far better than the life he had left behind. 

Grigori figured he was probably not going to be let go by the people here, but he didn’t have any particular attachment to anyone he had known in Muscovia, so that didn’t bother him either. He did wonder what the leaders had planned for him, though. He hoped it would be something more interesting that spending his days locked up in a cell or being beaten or whipped. 

If that was all they intended to do with him, then Grigori would have to find some way to try and escape, even if it meant he lost his life in the process. He was not suited to a life of prolonged confinement and inaction and he would rather die in an escape attempt than just rot away in a cell for the next twenty years or more.

Finally, on the fourth or fifth day – Grigori couldn’t tell time reliably in the cell and the drugs he had been given had altered his perceptions as well – a guard came to his door without either food or water.

She said something to Grigori, who shrugged. He hadn’t had an opportunity to learn any of the language spoken here, both the nobles had used his own language and no one else had really bothered to speak to him, including the healers.

The guard spoke again and this time included a beckoning gesture, so Grigori got up from the cot and crossed to the door. He thought he might be restrained, but instead, there were two more guards waiting outside. They were both huge men, even bigger than Lord Sefu had been and Grigori mentally agreed they were more than enough to deter him from trying any sort of escape attempt.

He was led through several corridors and up some stairs, then along more corridors, leaving him hopelessly lost and confused. At this point, even if the guards left him alone, he would have no hope of escaping.

Eventually he was led into a large room with benches around the walls and a large pool of water in the middle, which had steam rising from it. The female guard left, but the two men stayed by the door. Another woman entered the room from a door Grigori hadn’t noticed and came towards him, followed by a group of men and women. 

“You are to be prepared for our Lord Sefu and Lady Mudiwa,” the woman said, speaking slowly and carefully in Grigori’s native language.

“Prepared?” he asked.

The woman gestured to the pool of water and then at the group behind her. “Cleansed and oiled within and without,” she explained.

Mentally, Grigori balked. But he heard the sound of the guards behind him at the door and knew he had no choice. At least this was unlikely to be outright painful, compared to what he had experienced to this point. So he nodded in understanding and agreement, before removing the thin robe and slip on shoes that were all he had been given to wear for this trip.

Grigori walked down a set of shallow steps into the pool of water and couldn’t help a small sigh at the warmth of the water, feeling it relaxing muscles he hadn’t realized were tense, closing his eyes to further savor the warmth.

Splashing sounds made him open his eyes again and he was surprised to see two of the people who had come into the room also walking into the pool. Grigori looked round for the woman.

“What is going on?” he asked.

She crossed to the edge of the pool. “They will bathe you,” she told him. 

“I can do it myself,” Grigori said, moving backwards as they approached him.

The woman shook her head. “It does not work that way,” she replied. “You are the property of our Lord and Lady, their body slave. As such, you will have assistants to bathe you and help you with personal matters.”

Grigori shook his head, but felt himself slump in defeat. The truth was he had no power here, so he had to go along with what this woman was telling him.

“Alright then,” he finally agreed and raised his arms. “Let them do as they must.”

The woman nodded at the young man and woman who were waiting patiently a few feet away.

“Thank you Grigori,” she said and he nodded back at her.

*

After the most thorough bathing that Grigori could remember ever getting, he was led back out of the pool of water where another young couple waited with a towel. He submitted to them drying him off just as thoroughly as he’d been washed. 

Once they were done, he was guided to sit on one of the benches around the sides of the room, while yet another young man approached with a steaming bowl of water accompanied by a young woman carrying what Grigori realized was shaving accoutrements. He sighed, but was now resigned to having to submit to whatever these people thought he needed to go through in order to be presentable for their leaders.

The older woman from before reappeared as the bowl of water and equipment were set down beside Grigori. She nodded in dismissal at the others and soon it was just the two of them, if Grigori ignored the two guards at the door, which he was mostly succeeding in doing.

“I wish to thank you for your patience,” she told him, as she picked up a bowl of shaving foam. 

“I don’t really have a choice, do I?” Grigori replied.

She shook her head. “No, but that doesn’t stop someone from resisting and being forced to endure the experience, rather than relaxing and submitting to it.”

“I learned very early that life is less painful if you are prepared to accept that others control your life,” Grigori told her.

She nodded her agreement. “We will start with your face,” she said. “Then move on from there.”

“My whole body?” Grigori asked, unable to hide some apprehension at the thought of allowing this woman near certain areas of his body with a sharp object.

“I’m afraid so,” she told him. “It makes it easier for what will follow.”

Grigori breathed in deeply and then blew it out on a sigh. “Will you tell me your name?” he asked. “If we are to be this intimate, I would at least like to know who you are.”

She smiled at him. “My name is Hadiya,” she said. “I was the children's’ nanny, but my Lady chose me for this role after she saw how well I learned when I was with them. Now, no more talking please.”

Grigori gave a small nod of acknowledgement and Hadiya smiled again, as she began to apply the foam to his face. He closed his eyes, not really keen on seeing her shaving him. It made it easier to relax if he just let her hands guide his head into the positions she required, as she smoothly and efficiently applied the razor to the scruffy beard he had developed in the last few days, alone in his cell.

After his face, Hadiya encouraged him to lie on the bench and she went on to shave his chest, arms and legs. Grigori mostly kept his eyes closed, ignoring the comings and goings of the other servants who brought fresh bowls of hot water and new, sharp, razors, periodically. 

“Roll over please,” Hadiya asked quietly, when she was finished with his legs. 

Grigori was surprised, thinking she would move on to his groin area next. Instead, once he had rolled over, she ran a hand over his back, but there was nothing there for her to remove. So she got him to roll over again.

Grigori opened his eyes and looked into concerned brown eyes. “It’s alright, Hadiya,” he told her. “Just do it.”

She bit her lip. “Can you keep still?” she asked. “Many men are unable to do so, there is no shame in needing to be restrained for this.”

Grigori gave her a small smile. “I trust you,” he said. “But if it will make you feel better, you can use the restraints.”

“We will trust each other,” Hadiya told him, smiling back, so Grigori settled on the bench and closed his eyes once more.

Hadiya’s touch was light and gentle, but deft and sure and Grigori was glad he didn’t have any physical response to her handling of that part of his body. Knowing that there was a sharp blade so near his manhood definitely helped him keep his reactions under control.

Finally, Hadiya was done and Grigori opened his eyes, wondering what was next. He had a feeling that they weren’t done with him yet.

That was borne out by two of the young servants coming in with more equipment, as another two removed everything Hadiya had used while shaving him.

“What is that?” Grigori couldn’t help asking as he eyed the strange collection of objects on the tray the young man carried.

“This is for your internal cleansing,” Hadiya told him, gesturing to the young man to put it down and leave them alone again.

Grigori couldn’t help a wide-eyed look, as he drew himself up to a seated position on the bench. “Please explain,” he asked.

Hadiya showed him the items on the tray. “The tubing goes inside and carries a mixture of herbs and water into the body,” she explained. “Once it has all emptied into you, then you must hold the mixture inside for several minutes, before expelling it again from the body. We will need to repeat this twice.”

Grigori was shaking his head at her explanation, unhappy at the idea. “Why must we do this?” he asked. 

“Our Lord wishes to use your body to pleasure himself,” Hadiya said. “So you must be clean inside to receive him.”

Grigori bit his lip, feeling himself shake at the thought. Other men had tried to use him like that, as he grew up in Muscovia, but he had always managed to avoid it, even if it resulted in a terrible beating afterwards. The mere thought of a man the size of Lord Sefu using Grigori’s body like that sparked panic inside him. 

Hadiya’s hand on his knee made Grigori jump and he gave her a startled look. “My Lord Sefu is a good man,” she said. “By allowing us to make these preparations, it will mean you are not badly hurt by his use of you and nor will you need to worry about illness or infection.”

Grigori squeezed his eyes shut and bit his lip again. He couldn’t stop the flood of memories that came into his mind and he shook once more. Hadiya’s hand remained on his knee and she whispered soothingly to him in a language he didn’t recognize.

Eventually, the panic died away and the shaking stopped. Grigori felt exhausted by the experience and opened his eyes to look at Hadiya reluctantly. He could hear the guards moving restlessly over by the door and knew he couldn’t delay any further.

“This time, you had better use the restraints,” he told Hadiya.

She nodded and smiled sympathetically. “Of course,” she said. “We will go into the other room to do this.”

Hadiya led Grigori into the room that the other servants had been coming and going from during his earlier cleansing. This one was smaller and had no pool in it. There were cupboards around the walls with a large table in the middle that had restraints attached to it.

Grigori swallowed hard, but stepped forward and lifted himself onto the table anyway. He had agreed to this, so there was no point trying to back out now. Hadiya gestured to the other servants in the room and they hurriedly left, going through a door that Grigori hadn’t noticed at first. There was no guard inside, but he caught a glimpse of someone standing outside.

Once it was just the two of them in the room, Hadiya came over to the table where Grigori was sitting waiting. 

“Lie back,” she instructed. 

Grigori nodded and did as asked, shifting a few times until he felt relatively comfortable. Once he was still, Hadiya fastened leather cuffs to his wrists, holding them in place at his sides. A strap went across his waist and was buckled in place.

“I will not place the forehead strap unless you prefer I do,” Hadiya said, standing next to him. 

Grigori shook his head. “No thank you,” he said.

“Would you prefer a blindfold?” Hadiya asked. “I noticed earlier that you kept your eyes closed most of the time.”

Grigori took a deep breath as he considered that idea carefully. “Yes,” he eventually said. “I would prefer the blindfold.” He could keep his eyes closed, but the blindfold would be better.

“Very well,” Hadiya told him. “But I wish you to see how your legs are restrained first, so that you don’t panic.”

Grigori swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry at that statement. He nodded agreement, unable to speak. Hadiya moved to the bottom of the table and fiddled with something by the leg, Grigori straining to see what was happening.

After a minute or so, Hadiya was unfolding into place what was some sort of extension to the leg. A cuff was attached to it. She quickly did the same on the other side and it didn’t take Grigori long to figure that his legs would be spread wide and held in place. He bit his lip hard at the thought of his lower half being so exposed, even if Hadiya was the only one to see.

“Please, the blindfold,” he begged hoarsely.

Hadiya gave him a quick look, but nodded agreement. She came back holding a length of black material, which she used to cover his eyes, before tying it in place. The darkness was absolute and Grigori felt himself relax minutely at the knowledge he could no longer see anything. Even with his eyes wide open under the blindfold, there wasn’t even a glimmer of light visible.

It meant Grigori had to rely on his other senses, especially his hearing, to guess what was happening, but he found he didn’t mind. In fact, it was easier to just relax and let go of what was happening to his body, as he felt Hadiya lift each leg and fasten the cuffs around his ankles.

Grigori thought he must look absurd, legs splayed wide, showing his private parts to anyone who might walk in and he felt a flush across his body at the thought. Quickly, he pushed it aside, deciding instead that he would remember a particular day from his early childhood, when he was happy. It allowed him to distance himself from the noises as Hadiya worked, as well as her touches while she got the equipment in position and started for the internal cleansing.

*

Lost in memories, it was a surprise to Grigori when he felt a touch to his face and a voice speaking in his ear.

“Grigori, I must remove the blindfold now, it is time for you to get up,” Hadiya said quietly.

Grigori startled at the voice, then groaned as he felt unexpected pressure and fullness from his lower regions. The blindfold was removed and he blinked even in the low light of the room.

“Are you alright?” Hadiya asked, giving him a concerned look.

Grigori managed to nod, but accepted her help to move to a sitting position. He couldn’t help groaning again as he moved to the edge of the table. He felt an urgent need to relieve himself.

“The facilities are there,” Hadiya told him, pointing to a corner of the room. 

She helped him stand, but once Grigori was steady on his feet, she let go and turned away. He was grateful for the privacy as he hurried across the room.

Once he was done, there was a basin of water to wash his hands and Grigori then re-entered the main room. Hadiya was standing beside the table waiting for him, as he slowly walked back towards her.

“How do you feel?” she asked kindly as he came to a stop next to the table. 

“A little strange,” he admitted, realizing he was somewhat light-headed.

Hadiya held a glass in one hand, which she now gave to him. “Drink this slowly,” she instructed. “It is sugar water and will help with the dizziness.”

Grigori took the glass and raised it to his lips. He murmured a quiet “thank you,” as he started to sip at the water. When he was halfway through, he felt much better and held the glass out to Hadiya.

“You said we had to do this twice?” he asked.

Hadiya took the glass and put it aside. “Yes, I am afraid we must, as this is your first time,” she told him. “In the future, this will be part of your daily routine, to keep you prepared and ready for our Lord, so it will only need to be done once.”

“Very well,” Grigori said, determined to get this done and he climbed back onto the table again.

Hadiya put the blindfold back first, before moving around and re-securing Grigori’s body to the table. He breathed deeply to relax, once more losing himself in memories. 

*

When Grigori returned from the water closet the second time, Hadiya handed him the glass of sugar water again.

“What is left?” he asked, as he sipped the water, Hadiya’s expression making it clear they weren’t done yet and he probably wouldn’t like what was still to come.

“The application of oil both internally and externally,” Hadiya told him. “You must be stretched internally in readiness for our Lord to take you, and the rest of your body will be oiled as well, so that you look as appealing as possible.”

Grigori didn’t say anything, just handed back the empty glass. He climbed onto the table once more, waiting for Hadiya to restrain him again.

“Do you wish the blindfold again?” Hadiya asked and Grigori nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

Once he was blindfolded and restrained, Grigori listened to Hadiya’s movements. He didn’t think he would be able to ignore what was happening this time. It was going to be more intrusive than the cleansing process.

Grigori lay there passively, trying to ignore his body as he felt Hadiya’s fingers moving inside him. It felt uncomfortable and wrong, but he forced himself to lie still and submit. He sighed with relief when she eventually stopped though, only to tense up again, as he felt a hard object at the entrance to his body.

“What?” he asked, feeling himself start to shake.

A moment later, Hadiya was removing the blindfold and he blinked at her.

“To keep you stretched and ready, you must have a phallus inside you,” Hadiya told him.

“You didn’t mention that before,” Grigori said in a strained voice.

Hadiya bowed her head. “I am sorry,” she replied. “But it must be done.”

“Can I see it?” Grigori asked.

She looked up surprised, but quickly nodded in agreement, moving away, then coming back a moment later and holding an object out to him. Grigori couldn’t take it, with his arms still restrained, but he looked carefully at it.

The object was shaped like a male phallus and was quite large. “What is it made of?” Grigori asked.

“This one is polished stone,” Hadiya told him. “Our Lord has quite a collection of different objects, made of different things, but this is the one he favors for first time use.”

Grigori nodded absently, still staring at the stone phallus. He didn’t like the idea of having to wear it, but again, it seemed impossible to refuse.

“No more blindfold,” he said to Hadiya. “But go ahead and put it in.”

She was surprised again, but merely nodded to him, then returned to the other end of the table. Grigori took deep breaths and closed his eyes, waiting for her to insert the object. Being relaxed seemed like it would make this easier, so he tried to ignore the sick feeling in his stomach and concentrate on letting go of the tension he could feel throughout his body.

Thankfully, Hadiya had a light touch and was clearly experienced at this. It wasn’t long until the object was sliding into place inside Grigori’s body and then she wiggled it about and suddenly, Grigori felt a sensation he’d never experienced before and he couldn’t help crying out.

Hadiya immediately stopped what she was doing and came to stand at his head. “Grigori?” she asked.

Grigori panted as his nerves settled again after the unexpected flare of pleasure that had shot through him. “What was that?” he managed to ask.

Hadiya smirked a little at him. “The male pleasure spot,” she said. “You have not been touched there before?”

He scowled, thinking that his reaction should have made that obvious and Hadiya had the grace to look apologetic.

“I’m sorry,” Hadiya said. “I am done now, so I will unfasten the restraints. One of the other slaves will come and apply the oil to your skin.”

Grigori nodded his understanding and waited while she removed all the straps. He was slow and careful as he sat up, taking time to adjust to the strange feeling of the stone phallus inside him, pressing against the same spot inside him. Arousal continued to spark through his body and Grigori couldn’t help blushing as he felt himself respond to the sensations. Thankfully, Hadiya ignored the obvious physical reaction, matter-of-factly helping him to stand, before going to the door.

Grigori watched her exchange a few words with the guard standing outside, before returning to where he still stood beside the table.

“Lebna will be here shortly to apply the oil,” Hadiya told him and Grigori nodded in understanding.  
Grigori stayed in place, while Hadiya bustled around, sorting out the equipment she had used, cleaning and storing it away. A bowl of oil was warming over a flame and Grigori guessed that was what Lebna would be rubbing into his skin. The thought made him flush once more, still feeling arousal along his nerve endings from the thing inside him, even though he wasn’t moving. 

*

The door opened a few minutes later and Grigori watched a tall young man he recognized from earlier come into the room. He was one of the servants who had helped wash Grigori at the start of this whole process.

“Hadiya,” he said in a deep voice, bowing his head to her.

“Lebna,” she replied warmly, stepping forward to put her hands on his shoulders. “The oil is ready,” Hadiya said, indicating the set up at the side of the room. “Call for me when you are done.”

“Yes Hadiya,” Lebna replied, bowing his head again, before crossing to the other side of the room.

Hadiya turned to Grigori. “I will return once Lebna has finished his work and we will put the final preparations in place for you to go before our Lord and Lady,” she told him.

Grigori nodded warily, wondering what there was left for them to do to him after all that had already happened today. Hadiya clasped his arm briefly, before leaving the room. 

When Grigori turned around, Lebna was standing waiting patiently by the bench where the bowl of oil was heating. 

“Have you had this done before?” he asked Grigori.

Grigori shook his head. “Where should I be?” he asked.

“You may stand there,” Lebna told him. “I will start with your back and shoulders, then move to your chest and arms. After that I will oil your legs, then finish with your backside and private parts. Is that clear?”

Grigori nodded, unable to say anything, as he contemplated this young man’s hands moving over all of his body.

Lebna carried the bowl of oil over and set it on the table Grigori had been restrained on earlier for Hadiya’s ministrations. Grigori closed his eyes and breathed deeply. After all that had gone before, this should be easy to endure.

It was soon apparent that Lebna had done this before. His touch was sure and firm, but not overly familiar, as he applied the oil to each part of Grigori’s body, before rubbing it into the skin. Grigori kept his eyes closed and concentrated on his breathing, trying not to react to being touched so intimately by someone who was basically a stranger.

Fortunately, Lebna kept his touch impersonal, not lingering at all, as he moved around Grigori, staying quiet as he worked. When he had finished with Grigori’s feet, he touched a shoulder lightly and Grigori opened his eyes.

“I must touch your private areas now,” Lebna told him. “I wanted to be sure you were ready and didn’t react badly.”

Grigori nodded his understanding. “Thank you,” he said softly, not quite managing a smile.

Lebna nodded back and moved to kneel behind Grigori. The first touch still made Grigori jump a little, but he was able to relax when Lebna continued to use the same touch as before. 

It wasn’t long before he was coming back around to stand in front of Grigori, a compassionate look in his eyes as he addressed Grigori again.

“Any physical reaction to touch here is natural,” Lebna assured him. “I will ignore it and be as quick as possible.”

Grigori breathed in and out deeply a few times, while Lebna waited patiently. “Alright,” he eventually said. “Let us finish this.”

Lebna gave a small smile, then knelt in front of Grigori, placing the bowl containing the oil beside him. Grigori closed his eyes again, shifting to spread his legs when Lebna’s gentle touch encouraged him to do so. He had to bite his lip, as it caused the phallus still embedded inside him to shift and spark more arousal along his nerve endings.

Lebna didn’t say anything and Grigori risked a glance downwards. He still had the same neutral look Grigori had seen earlier, but Grigori could see his eyes were dark, as he raised one oil-covered hand and took hold of Grigori’s member.

Grigori bit his lip harder and closed his eyes as he tried not to react. He brought to mind the memories of the beating by the mercenaries outside Wasaria and that helped to quell his body’s natural reaction to being handled this way.

Thankfully, it was over quickly and Grigori opened his eyes as Lebna rose to his feet in front of him again.

“I will fetch Hadiya,” he told Grigori, before carrying his empty bowl to the bench, and wiping his hands on a towel.

Grigori remained in place, watching Lebna leave the room and waiting for Hadiya’s return. Hopefully the worst of this whole ordeal was over now and Grigori would be taken before the Lord and Lady for an inspection or something and then be left in peace. He badly wanted some time alone and hoped he’d have a chance for that soon.

*

A few minutes later, Hadiya entered the room once more. She swept an approving glance over Grigori’s body, nodding in pleasure at what she saw.  
“Lebna does good work,” she commented, as she came towards Grigori, carrying a covered tray.

Grigori eyed it nervously, wondering what she was planning to use on him next.

“Don’t worry,” Hadiya told him, as she set the tray on the table and uncovered it. “Just a few accessories and then you will be taken before our Lord and Lady.”

Grigori looked at the tray, which seemed to contain several items made of leather. “Restraints?” he asked.

“Yes,” Hadiya agreed. “And a collar.”

Grigori gave a startled look at that. “I’m not an animal!” he protested.

“No, but you are a slave and all slaves wear collars,” Hadiya told him. “This one is plain leather, like the restraints, but if you please them, our Lord and Lady may allow you to wear something made of one of our precious metals.”

Grigori frowned, not sure that was really anything to look forward to, but resigned that he had to accept what was happening. He stood quietly while Hadiya fastened cuffs to his ankles and wrists, before buckling the collar in place.

“Now you are ready,” Hadiya said, stepping back and giving him another approving glance. “You may wear slippers for the journey to the royal chambers, but once there, you will remove them. You must kneel in front of our Lord and Lady and obey all their commands. Do you understand?”

Grigori gave a quick nod. The instructions were simple enough.

“Very well, I will fetch Kamaria, who will lead you to the royal chambers,” Hadiya said, heading for the door.

“You’re not taking me?” Grigori asked.

Hadiya paused and turned back to him. “That is not my place,” she answered. 

“Oh,” Grigori supposed that might make some sort of sense, but he was confused between slaves and servants and who had what role in this household.

* 

Hadiya returned with a tall, bald woman, who wore richly patterned robes. She seemed to be neither guard nor servant.

“This is Kamaria,” Hadiya told Grigori. “You will obey all her commands as if she were our Lady.”

Grigori bowed his head. “Of course,” he agreed.

Kamaria gave a brief nod, then handed him a pair of slippers like those he had worn for the walk to these chambers. Grigori quickly put them on, then stood waiting for further instructions.

“You must be leashed for the walk through the palace,” Kamaria told him, producing a long strip of leather with a clip on the end.

Grigori didn’t say anything, just nodded in resignation. After Hadiya had put the collar on, he had suspected something like this might happen. Kamaria clipped the leash to the metal ring on Grigori’s collar, then gestured towards the door.

Grigori gave a quick nod of the head to Hadiya, before following behind Kamaria as she gave a small tug on the leash. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but Grigori assumed he’d need to keep up with her or it could be painful.

As they left the preparation room, the two guards who had originally been at the door of the bathing chamber fell into step with Grigori and Kamaria, one in front and one behind. Grigori was glad, because their size meant he would be mostly shielded from view of anyone who they might pass in the corridors. 

Although he had gotten accustomed to being naked, he didn’t really want everyone they passed getting an eyeful of his body, particularly because the phallus inserted inside of him pressed constantly on his pleasure spot, leaving his manhood in an erect state.

*

Kamaria led him through the corridors at a steady pace, ignoring everyone around them and Grigori followed closely, head down to avoid any sideways glances. The corridors got more populated as they moved up stairs and through different levels of the palace and the people were more richly dressed, from what Grigori could tell from quick looks as they passed. He didn’t dare try and look anyone in the eye, sure he’d see disgust or displeasure, conscious of his pale skin in contrast to everyone else around him.

Eventually, he was led down a long corridor, that ended in ornate double doors with two guards standing outside. They were even bigger and more heavily muscled than the two men who had been acting as Grigori’s guards for this trip through the palace.

Kamaria stopped short just before the doors and turned to Grigori. “We are about to meet our Lord and Lady,” she told him. “Remember to kneel before them.”

Grigori nodded in acquiescence and quickly kicked off the slippers at her pointed look towards his feet. He bent and picked them up and Kamaria took them from him, tucking them out of sight in her clothing somewhere.

She then turned to the guards at the door and gave a quick command in the local language. Grigori hoped someone would start teaching that to him soon, he was lucky there were people here who spoke his language, but he couldn’t count on that being true for everyone. If he was stuck here, as he expected, then he would need to learn how to communicate with others.

The guards opened both doors and Kamaria gave a tug to the leash, so Grigori quickly followed behind her, as she led the way into a large room. It was paneled with light wood and had high windows, giving it a warm feel. At the far end of the room, two ornate chairs were mounted on a low platform, with Lord Sefu and Lady Mudiwa seated beside each other. They had their heads bent together in conversation, but as Grigori followed Kamaria into the room, they both looked up.

Kamaria came to a stop a few feet from the platform and Grigori immediately sunk to his knees, head bowed. He wasn’t sure what to do with his hands, so rested his palms on his thighs. Kamaria still held the leash, as she stood beside him.

“I bring the slave known as Grigori to you, my Lord and Lady,” Kamaria said in a clear voice, using Grigori’s language again. “He has been prepared by Hadiya and her team as you instructed and is ready for your pleasure.”

As Grigori waited, he heard movement and then saw feet coming towards him. The person stopped just in front of him and a hand reached out to lift his face upwards.

“He looks much better than when we saw him last,” Lady Mudiwa commented, as she held Grigori’s jaw. “Congratulate Hadiya on a job well done.”

“Yes my Lady,” Kamaria murmured.

“You are dismissed now,” Lady Mudiwa said and Grigori could see her take the leash from Kamaria’s hand. He could just make out Kamaria’s bow, before she was moving away, leaving him alone with his owners.

“Do you wish to take him to our chambers?” Grigori heard Lord Sefu ask.

Lady Mudiwa gave a tug on the leash, so Grigori rose to his feet again. “It will be more pleasant and comfortable than in here,” she said. 

She turned towards a door in the corner behind the platform and what Grigori had decided must be thrones, so Grigori dutifully followed along behind her. Lord Sefu was standing waiting by the door and he gestured Lady Mudiwa to go ahead of him. 

As Grigori followed behind her, he felt a large hand grab and squeeze his behind. He bit his lip to stop from making any sound at the firm grip, concentrating on following Lady Mudiwa as she led him down a short corridor to a smaller, but no less ornate doorway.

*

Inside, the room was dominated by a large bed, while tapestries covered the walls. Again, high windows let in warm sunshine. Grigori paused as they entered the room, uncertain of what was expected of him.

Lady Mudiwa turned and handed the leash to her husband. “I wish to see you use him first,” she said. “Then he can show us what oral skills he may have.”

“Of course wife,” Lord Sefu agreed, taking the leash and leading Grigori to the bed. 

Lady Mudiwa followed them and got onto the bed first. She settled against the headboard, pillows piled behind her. Lord Sefu stopped at the side of the bed and unclipped the leash. He then maneuvered Grigori into position so that he was bent over and his legs were spread wide.

“Hold on to the bed for support,” Lord Sefu commanded and Grigori did as instructed. 

He felt a hand at his backside and the phallus was slowly tugged out of him. Grigori couldn’t help a groan as the hard object was pulled free of his body, but he barely had time to adjust to the feeling of emptiness before he felt something else at his entrance.

Lord Sefu went slowly, but his member was bigger and thicker than Hadiya’s stone phallus had been, making Grigori bite his lip as he was stretched even more widely, while Lord Sefu gradually penetrated him.

Eventually, he stopped, body pressed up close against Grigori’s back. Hands roamed over Grigori’s body, pausing to squeeze his nipples, before moving lower. Grigori couldn’t help a startled moan when Lord Sefu gripped his hard member firmly, before letting go again. His hands moved to Grigori’s hips, taking them in a hard grip.

“Noise is permitted, but no words and you must stay still,” Lord Sefu instructed. “You may find your release from my pleasure, but you may not touch yourself and nor will I do so again. Nod if you understand.”

Grigori nodded once and immediately, he felt Lord Sefu begin to move behind him, withdrawing from Grigori’s body slowly, before pressing in again hard and fast. Grigori couldn’t help moaning again at the sensations flooding through his body, unlike anything he had experienced before. 

Lord Sefu set a steady pace, repeating the slow withdrawal and fast push into Grigori, who gripped the bedding he held more tightly. It was a struggle to hold still, but Grigori wanted to please his new master, so he locked his knees and breathed deeply as his body was used for his master’s pleasure.

Moans and groans spilled from Grigori’s mouth as Lord Sefu continued to pound into his body, now hitting Grigori’s pleasure spot on every hard stroke into him. Grigori felt his pleasure spiraling upwards, getting closer and closer to the edge.

Finally, he felt Lord Sefu shove in deep and then freeze in place and Grigori realized he was spilling his seed into his body and with a shout, he felt himself fall into release as well. He barely managed to stay standing, as he trembled with the force of his pleasure, experiencing a stronger orgasm than he’d ever known before. 

Behind him, Lord Sefu covered Grigori’s body with his own, still gripping his hips tightly as he also shook with the force of his release. Eventually, Grigori felt Lord Sefu straighten up and then he was withdrawing, making Grigori hiss as he did so.

“That was beautiful, my husband,” Lady Mudiwa said, startling Grigori, who had forgotten she was there in the intensity of his experience at Lord Sefu’s hands. “He took you very well for his first time.”

“Thank you, my wife,” Lord Sefu said, as Grigori felt him move away from behind him. “I believe it is your turn now.”

Grigori managed to straighten up, keeping one hand on the bed for support as he did so. He looked up to find Lady Mudiwa had pulled aside her clothing and appeared to have been pleasuring herself as she watched her husband use Grigori.

“Let the boy recover a little first,” she commented, catching Grigori’s look. He bowed his head and blushed at being caught out. “It’s alright boy,” she said. “Come here.”

Grigori looked up again to see her holding her hand out to him. He climbed onto the bed and took her hand, allowing her to pull him alongside her. She grasped his chin with her other hand and pressed their mouths together, taking him in a fierce kiss.

“That is not allowing him to recover,” Lord Sefu said from behind Grigori, who felt him climb onto the bed as well.

“I could not resist,” Lady Mudiwa replied, once she had released Grigori, who collapsed against the pillows piled on the bed. He felt drained from what he had experienced already.

“Let the boy rest a little,” Lord Sefu told his wife and Grigori watched as he took her mouth in a possessive kiss of his own.

When he released her, Lord Sefu turned to Grigori. “Close your eyes if you wish,” he said. “We will rouse you when it is your turn again.” With that, he turned back to Lady Mudiwa and started to kiss her once more.

Grigori curled up in the pillows and closed his eyes, feeling himself drift in a not quite sleeping state, feeling drained by what he had experienced this day. It was clearly not over yet, but he had a feeling he wasn’t going to mind what was still to come.


End file.
